


Aftermath

by Counselor



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Mentioned Lavernius Tucker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:00:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21999391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Counselor/pseuds/Counselor
Summary: After Washington is shot in the neck, Locus rushes him to the hospital. Carolina is quick to visit him at his bedside, her feelings for Washington stronger than ever, while Locus is confronted with his past once more.
Relationships: Agent Carolina/Agent Washington (Red vs. Blue)
Kudos: 29





	Aftermath

-en route to Chorus-

Locus sat in the cockpit of his ship, A’rynasea. He looked over at Agent Washington, who was slumped in his seat, his neck bandage soaked through with blood by now. Locus quickly averted his gaze and turned his attention to the fact that they were fast approaching General Doyle General Hospital.

To tell the truth, he was worried about Washington. He wouldn’t admit it to himself just yet, but he would hate to see Washington die. He hadn’t even had a chance to talk to him when he wasn’t... delusional. About how to be a better person. Washington had made him greater, and he wasn’t about to let anything take him away before he could express his gratitude, and take some time to talk. He wasn’t going to let anyone slip out of his grasp. Not anymore. He vowed that.

-inside the hospital, many hours later-

Carolina slammed her fist on the front desk. “What the hell do you mean I can’t see him?” she asked, her voice burning with rage. “Exactly what I said, ma’am. It’s orders from the top,” the receptionist replied. “You- you have to. You can’t keep this from me,” she pleaded, her voice tight. The receptionist shook his head no, and Carolina proceeded to smash his head onto the desk, knocking him out.

She looked at the files on the computer for a couple minutes before finding out the information she needed and running into the nearest elevator, headed up for the 23rd floor. She was silent as she restlessly waited for the elevator to come to a stop, which it eventually did. She walked to Washington’s room, and opened the door. She ran to stand beside his laid-out form.

His eyes were shut, his golden hair standing messily in different directions. His breath was coming in shallow heaves, the many tubes connected to his ventilator all running back to many different metallic machines. Carolina shivered at the sight of the debilitated freelancer and the cold, soulless machines that he depended on.

She pulled a chair up by Washington’s bedside. She put a hand on his chest, feeling his toned upper body rise and fall shakily. His breath was faint, but it was there. Carolina removed her helmet and moved her hand to rest on top of Washington’s. “Don’t die on me, Wash...” she trailed off, her voice cracking. Tears formed in her eyes as she squeezed his hand. “You were always the best of us...” she continued, even though she knew he couldn’t hear her. “I already lost York... David, you can’t fucking do this to me-“ she stopped herself as she broke down, sobbing softly, resting her head on the side of the bed.

Carolina felt a hand on her shoulder, but didn’t bother to pick her head up. She did get a hold of herself, though, and tried not to cry, because he wasn’t going to die. She wouldn’t let herself believe the man that had survived so much could be taken out by this momentary lapse in judgment that was hardly his fault to begin with.

She felt another tap on her shoulder. She looked up. “What the hell do you-“ she stopped as she saw that Locus was sitting beside her. She pushed his arm away. “What do you even want...” she trailed off, gazing at Washington. Locus took his helmet off, and Carolina snapped her attention over to him. He linked his hands together, a pained expression on his scarred face. Carolina hadn’t ever seen his face, so this was a bit jarring for her. Locus sighed.

“I just wanted to apologize to you... for my actions in the past. I know that I... didn’t do the best job of addressing that when I rescued you two,” his gaze flitted to Washington and then back to her. “Well, yeah, if you want to put it lightly...” she said dryly, staring at him. Locus frowned, his eyes downcast. “I don’t think I can live with myself if he dies...” Locus said quietly as he looked at her.

Carolina raised an eyebrow. “Why do you care what happens to him? Weren’t you two... like... arch enemies?” she asked, puzzled. Locus sighed, his regret evident. “He showed me how to become a soldier instead of a monster. I... hate to admit it... but he was what I could never be. He has to survive- if only to hear how sorry I am for my actions,” he explained.

Carolina nodded. “I’m sorry... for being a bit abrasive the last time we met,” she conceded, looking back at Locus. Locus nodded back. “I am forever in your debt,” he said, returning her gaze. They sat in silence after that, the only sound being the constant beeping of the heart monitor.

-later that night-

Carolina walked over to the trash can in the corner to throw away the wrapper of a sandwich she had just eaten. Tucker had mailed it to her, making sure it was refrigerated on its way there. He had come a long way, from hitting on her every two seconds to sending her food he knew she liked with a handwritten letter. She smiled as she thought that Tucker wasn’t such a bad guy after all.

She sat back down beside Washington and went to grab his hand again. She stopped herself. It was clenched into a fist. She looked at his face and saw that his blue eyes were open and he was smiling softly. Carolina was overcome with relief, and embraced him tenderly, careful not to squeeze him. He smiled and weakly threw his arms around her, letting them rest there as they embraced each other.

“Don’t try to pull that shit again, David,” she whispered in his ear as she continued to hold onto him. She held onto him like he was a leaf that could be swept away from her forever with a slight gust of wind.

-a minute later-

When Carolina finally pulled away, Washington smiled up at her. He tried to say something, but he clutched his throat and grimaced. Carolina quickly put a hand over his mouth. “No talking,” she ordered him.

‘Yes, boss,’ he wanted to respond, but he remembered that he had been shot in the throat. and couldn’t talk right now. Or, he thought, he might not regain his voice, like Wyoming. Wait... no. It was Maine that got shot in the throat. Why did he feel so... fuzzy-brained? He guessed that he was just tired, and plus, they both had white armor. Easy thing to mix up, not a huge deal, he figured.

He started to sit up weakly, but fell back into the bed. Carolina put a hand on him to stop him from trying to get up again, and ran the other through his hair. It felt relaxing and comforting. She hummed softly and soothingly as she continued to comb through his messy, spiky golden hair. He began to lose consciousness as she did this, feeling tranquil and tired at the same time. Carolina smiled softly as she caressed his head. “Don’t leave me ever again.” Washington relapsed into sleep once more.

-meanwhile-

Locus walked through a park that surrounded the hospital. Tall street lamps illuminated sections of pathway, moths flitting around in the golden light. His shoes pressed against the gray stone pathway and pulled up again as he walked.

He was present in the moment, for once. Late night walks like this helped him to clear his troubled mind of dark thoughts. The darkness and silence brought him peace of mind, contrary to many others’ preferences. He was sure he could handle himself if anyone snuck up on him. He might have sworn off killing, but that didn’t mean that he would be reluctant to dish out pain if the need arose.

He suddenly stopped as a young woman approached him. “Hello, sir. What are you doing out at this hour?” she asked in an upbeat tone. Locus stood, frozen in place as a realization hit him. “...Emily?” Locus asked quietly. “Yes, that’s my name. Doctor Emily Grey, that’s me! Now... who are you? You sound familiar...” she said, furrowing her brow. Locus’s expression was one of worry. “If I tell you, will you promise to hear me out before potentially killing me?” Locus asked. “Of course, silly! I wasn’t planning on killing anyone for telling me their name,” she replied cheerily.

Locus sighed. “You do know me. I am Locus,” he revealed. Dr. Grey just smiled. “Of course it’s you, Locus! I was just asking what your real name was!” she said. Locus was stunned. He guessed that this quick deduction was plausible because of her very high IQ. “Um... it’s Sam. Samuel Ortez,” he responded slowly.

Dr. Grey smiled. “Well, thank you for telling me that, Samuel. But I’m afraid that I must be going now. No sense in sticking around so that you can stab me!” she said to him. Locus looked down at the ground. “I don’t... do that anymore. I can’t express how truly sorry I am for... murdering all of your friends and acquaintances in the Federal Army. Please don’t be scared,” he pleaded.

Dr. Gray just stood there and frowned. “Still as manipulative as ever, I see! Good try, Locus. But feel free to murder my new colleagues as well!” she said, her tone of voice eerily positive. She leaned into his face and whispered, “I don’t really like them that much.” She then strolled away, humming loudly to herself. Locus sighed, his head hung, and started back toward the hospital. He was going to make it right. He had to.

-the next day-

“C’mon Wash, what are you gonna do, sh-“ South was cut off as Washington shot her through the head. Washington was reliving his memories. He wanted to scream at his past self for killing her so easily. They could have talked it out... become friends.

His surroundings changed, and now he was on Sidewinder. A figure in white armor clawed at the snowy ground as he was pulled over the cliff side. Maine... no - not Maine. It was the Meta, he knew that. But what if... a little bit of Maine was still left? And he helped to kill it? He was overcome with much doubt... but mostly sadness for the loss of an old friend, one of the closest he ever had. What could’ve been...?

The scene changed now to Carolina, crouching defeated before an army of Tex drones. But this scene had a happy ending, Washington knew. “Better luck next time, Carolina,” one of the drones said robotically. He waited for the three sticky grenades to be thrown in. Nothing happened, so he continued to wait. And wait, and wait.

One of the drones stepped forward and raised Carolina into the air in a choke hold. Her helmet fell to the floor along with some spattered blood and the Epsilon AI chip. Washington opened his mouth to scream, to call out for her, tried to run to her. But his words were just breath, and his legs were just pillars of stone. 

As Carolina’s lifeless body hit the floor, the room faded out into black, and Epsilon appeared in front of Washington. He glowed red. “This is all your fault, Washington! You betrayed the only people who understood you! Do you know how much of a fucking monster you truly are?” Epsilon screamed at him.

Epsilon, his AI. Memories began bombarding Washington’s mind, and he curled up into a ball, fighting to regain a shred of sanity. It didn’t work. “Leonard... stop. You’re going to make me late...” Washington grasped his head and rocked back and forth. “Agent Washington and another died...” He punched the ground. Epsilon was trying to kill itself in his head again. He was barely holding on.

“Hey, Wash! Stop that!” a different voice called out. The voices stopped, Epsilon disappeared, and he found himself in a hospital bed, with Carolina leaning over him. He sat up, holding himself and shaking a little bit. Carolina put a hand on his shoulder. “Wash... it was just a dream... whatever it was,” she assured him.

-five minutes later-

Washington was still sitting up, his blue eyes looking distant. Carolina waved a hand in front of his face, seeing if she could get him to come back to his senses. He suddenly threw his arms around her shoulders and started to sob softly. Carolina was surprised by this, but hugged him back.

He had never seemed this... vulnerable when they were in the Project together. Even when he got seriously hurt, even when his implantation had gone horribly wrong, he hadn’t shown much weakness. What was going on to make him break his ‘invincible man’ act?

He finally pulled away from her, his eyes red. “What... happened?” she asked him, concerned. He grabbed a logbook off of a table next to his bed and began to write;

𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘚𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩, 𝘔𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦... 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘐 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥. 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘥𝘪𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘊𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘤𝘩 𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘌𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘰𝘯 (𝘊𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘤𝘩), 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘌𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘯𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

Carolina looked up from the paper, her gaze solemn. “I went through the same thing at the temple,” she said. “I had to watch all of the freelancers die. But... at least I didn’t see you die.” Washington gripped the notebook again. She allowed him to pull it back toward himself and continue writing;

𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦.

She smiled at Washington’s use of his iconic phrase, and wrapped an arm around him. “Same here. My number one priority is your recovery, Recovery One.” Washington smiled as he leaned into her, and she supported him.

Washington’s injury was much like a hurricane in the way that it had completely wrecked any plans she would have made. She needed to be here with him. Recovery was going to be a long process, she knew that much. But the extent of the damage? Unknown, for now. Like after a natural disaster, all she could do was wait out the storm, and salvage what she could afterward. This was the second half. This was the aftermath.


End file.
